


Circumstances

by lumifuer



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Burns, F/M, Flirting, Hospital, Logan (2017), Pain, cuts and bruises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumifuer/pseuds/lumifuer
Summary: Donald gets injured during the mission.





	Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Donald Pierce + "Are you flirting with me?"

The earsplitting sound of my ringing phone shook me awake. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I sat up and reached for the phone. Contact’s name made the blood in my veins freeze and I could feel a growing lump in my throat.

The thought of sleep sunk into oblivion as I answered the call with shaky hands.  
  
“Don?” I whispered with hope still present in my voice.  
  
“Hey, kiddo,” I heard one of the Reavers’ voice but was unable to identify him correctly, “there’s been a little accident at work. I think Pierce would appreciate your company now.”  
  
I shut my eyes and covered the mouth with my palm to mute a sob. Logan and Donald couldn’t have survived this witch hunt. Not both of them at least. And up until that moment, I had no clue who was easier to say goodbye to. The decision was made inside of my head once I saw Donald’s number on my phone screen.  
  
“You still there?”  
  
I instinctively nodded, still trying to fight off the despair that was tearing apart my insides.  
  
“Yeah,” I spat out, “and I’m gonna be there in a minute.”  
  
I hung up, preventing him from asking any more question that I wouldn’t be capable of answering without bursting into tears.  
  
I jumped out of bed and put on the first clothes that happened to be within my reach. It was only on my way to the elevator that I realised that the black shirt didn’t belong to me. The scent of Donald’s skin that I knew so well was painfully reminiscent of how I always felt with him around. The feeling of guilt and helplessness was swallowing me whole and I couldn’t keep up with wiping the tears from my cheeks.

The way to the Transigen hospital seemed to drag on forever. Every intersection that I had to overpass welcomed me with a bright red light and if that wasn’t enough, it started pouring and I was forced to slow down by overcautious elderly drives more than a few times.

I parked right next to the entrance, not bothering with locking the car. I was praying that I wasn’t already too late.  
  
As soon as she saw me, rain-soaked and frightened, the receptionist sent me to the room number 23. I thanked her with a quick nod and ran in the shown direction. When I took the right turn into the corridor, my eyes laid on the Reaver with whom I probably spoke earlier. Even from afar I could see all the dirt and dried blood on his uniform. He motioned me to come closer to him.  
Only then did I realise that I stood still in the middle of the hallway, completely paralysed by fear.  
  
I covered the distance separating me from the room within few quick steps and peered through the open door.  
  
Three doctors were nervously circling around the hospital bed in desperate efforts to recover the consciousness of the person who was lying on it. The monotonous sound of the machines intimating a heart failure was splitting my skull in half. Although my vision was blurred by tears that were streaming down my face, I noticed a metal arm hanging by the side of the bed.  
  
The men from Donald’s division was saying something to me in a low voice but I couldn’t distinguish the words coming from his mouth.  
  
It was like a nightmare, the kind where the whole world seems to suddenly shrink with a blink of an eye and the purpose of everything is to cause a suffering and despair.  
  
I was trying to keep away from Donald’s body, partly because I didn’t want to disturb the doctors but also because I caught a glimpse of his face.  
  
He was pale, his eyes were shut with his head lifelessly dropped to one side.  
From time to a spasm would go through his body as doctors were trying to restore his heart’s work.  
  
But the thing that worried me the most was the enormous burn wound covering the right side of his face and a part of his neck. Similar to those of people who barely survived an explosion. I could also notice a lot of minor cuts and bruises on his skin.  
  
My reverie was stopped abruptly by a single beep that echoed in the room.  
I turned my face to the pulse monitoring device and even though I was trying my best not to give into hope, the sight didn’t make it any easier for me.  
  
Just a second later I could hear another short sound which was followed by yet another.  
  
I looked back at Don. The doctors seemed more relaxed but didn’t stop their efforts just yet. However, thanks to this tiny improvement, there was finally enough space by his side for me to fit in.  
  
“Baby?” I whispered, running my fingers through his blonde hair stained with blood. I was quite aware that it was naive of me to expect a reaction, nevertheless, the lack of it ripped the heart out of my chest and tore it to pieces. My mind snapped and I lost the remaining control over my emotions. The teardrops were falling freely and I was sobbing, even though I still remembered that people around were, in fact, colleagues from work. For a short time, I almost forgot about my commitment to Logan and Gabriela’s cause.  
  
The minutes were passing by both slowly and incredibly fast at the same time. My eyes were fixed on the blurred sight of Donald lying motionless on the white hospital sheets. The doctors were bustling around cleaning the wounds and securing them with bandages. Once Donald’s pulse was stabilised, they left the room.  
  
A quiet sigh of relief escaped my mouth.  
  
I rested my head on the mattress and listen to the regular beating of his heart. The sight of his chest rising and then falling slowly was so unspeakably soothing for me. It might have been still too early to start celebrating but I could breathe with ease once again.  
  
All of a sudden, I felt his hand squeezing mine and I immediately straighten my back, trying to be closer to him.  
  
“Don?” I whispered.  
  
He opened his eyes and almost right away a beautiful smile brighten his expression.  
  
“Hi,” he said in a weak voice, “looking good, baby.”  
  
I laughed and brushed his hair away from his face.  
  
“How are you feeling?” I asked, “Does it hurt a lot?”  
  
He shook his head in response and ironically the slight movement caused him pain because he frowned and bit his lip.  
  
“Bet they will give me some new improvements,” he said, raising his metal arm gently brushing my cheek with it, “you have some getting used to them ahead of you.”  
  
“If they will work as efficiently as those you already have, I won’t complain,” I replied with a wink.  
  
“ **Are you flirting with me**? You?” he teased, slightly raising his eyebrows, “Shame I hadn’t known that was all you needed, I’d stand near explosions more often.”  
  
“I’ll stop you right there,” I rolled my eyes.  
  
The smile stayed on his lips the entire time, even when he was shaking his head, visibly amused.  
  
“I mean it,” I gently cupped his cheeks, bearing in mind that should avoid touching his new scars, “I was worried as hell.”  
  
“Can I honestly say I’m happy you were or will it make me an asshole?”  
  
“You’re already an asshole.”  
  
“Then come here,” he pulled me closer with his hand and pressed his lips against mine. I could feel his smile growing even wider under the touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
